


Domestic Disturbance

by JessicaPendragon



Series: Fenfel [5]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Pavelyan baby, solavellan baby - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9859391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaPendragon/pseuds/JessicaPendragon
Summary: There’s teasing laughter in her eyes, in the tilt of her brow. “Am I disturbing you, Felix?”





	

The villa is finally quiet and still save for the scratches of his quill against parchment and the gentle crackling of the kitchen’s hearth. Felix likes to work here in the morning with the scent of bread and tea drifting in the air before moving into the laboratory where lately he’s locked himself away. For months it seems like his home is the center of the Crossroads with all the flurry of motion and noise of wedding preparations, but now a week after the event things are settling back into normalcy again.

Not that anything is the same. One look down at his hand and the tattoos there remind him of that. The lines and circles etched into him are different from the others up his arm and shoulder - those are his, made from ink and needle and a lifetime lived. These ones are weaved together from magic and song, pulse faintly with every new beat of his heart, and they are _theirs_. It is something he is getting used to, the idea of being married, the idea that any of this, that they, have happened at all. He wonders if this wonder will ever go away or if when he’s ancient he’ll wake up and still feel awe at it all. 

His musings are cut loose when Fenera walks into the kitchen. “Ala’arin,” she greets, words stretched out by a yawn. The Fade still clings to her eyes, long hair undone, but he hardly notices any of that due to the fact she is not wearing a stitch of clothing.

“What are you doing?” he asks as she grabs for a piece of toast and a pitcher of juice. 

“What’s it look like I’m doing? Give me that jam.” When he doesn’t move right away she makes a face, frowning. “Please?”

“Uh, here.” She goes about her breakfast without much looking at him after that, but he is decidedly focused by her. She is all beautiful soft curves and shadows in the morning light, the sun making her shine golden and bright. Fingers twitch remembering the feel of her, wanting quite suddenly to feel that warmth and electricity again. 

“What are you working on?” she questions and it takes him a moment to realize there’s still a quill cradled against his palm - long enough for Fenera to finally wake up and realize what her presence has done. There’s teasing laughter in her eyes, in the tilt of her brow. “Am I disturbing you, Felix?”

“You're naked,” he counters. 

“So what? It’s our house and there’s nobody else here, I can do whatever I want. I plan to spend the whole day like this.”

“No, it’s-” He stops before the word _inappropriate_  slips through, knowing how she’ll roll her eyes and call him a prude for it. And it’s not exactly true - he’s just used to the palace and the hundreds of eyes everywhere, privacy a page torn out from the book of his life. He’s forgotten there are other ways to live. “It’s distracting,” he says instead.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The way she smiles and stands, swaying all the way into his grasp, speaks against her words, but he’ll forgive her for it. “Why don’t you join me?”

There’s little fight in him against the demands of her hands as they unbutton his shirt and discard it. He laughs when she hooks fingers into the band of his pants and tugs him up to meet her, shivers as nails drag across his hips and down his thighs as she slips him free of the rest of his clothing. When she’s finished she’s completes her task by wrapping arms around his neck and bringing them close together.

“There. How does it feel?”

“Fine,” he says as his own hands pioneer paths across her skin. “I guess I can see the appeal.”

She takes a step away, cold flooding in her wake. “Well, I’ll just let you get to work then-ah!” 

He chases after her, pulls her back and down onto the chair with him, drinking up her laughter so sweet on his tongue. He may always be amazed by the things of his life, their life now, of the tingling marks on his hand and the way she makes his heart beat, but he could get used to this.


End file.
